Can't Save You Now
by R Lucky Crayon
Summary: Jean is Dallas Winston little sister. She grew up in NY with a worrywart for a mother, now what will happen when she gets jumped?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the novel "The Outsiders" nor any of it affiliates. I do however own all of the original characters in this story, along with the plotline.

Nothing is better than taking a stroll around the block as the sun sets in the west. Of course, it isn't the safest thing to do in New York. With all the gangs and murders happening here. I always found it strange that every time someone was jumped or killed, I was just far enough away that I wouldn't here about it 'til I read the paper the next day.

Going on this line of thought, I decided to take a short cut through the park, so I can get home a tad faster. It never is safe for a young girl like me to be walking around the streets anyway. But, who ever said all the jumpings and murders happen out on the streets, or after the sun went to sleep?

Half way through the park, I heard some rustling in the trees; probably just some squirrels going nuts over nuts. Then I heard a stick break, as if someone stepped harshly on it. The code in the East Side of NY is: if you hear a sudden noise behind you, then you're probably going to get jumped real soon. The only way to avoid this is to be in a group larger than the one jumping you, or simply out run them. There was only one option for me, and that was running.

Unfortunately, the option of running was soon closed to me. My body was never was in it's prime. My stamina was always lower than most other kids my age. I was very sickly in terms of health.

As my body started to give up, I tripped over a raised root. As soon as my body hit the hard ground, my pursuers were upon me. I righted myself, and backed up against the nearest tree, so they could get me in my blind spot.

"Look what we have here, guys, a little chick lost from her nest." The ringleader of the gang taunted, stepping forward menacingly. I forgot about the tree behind me and tried to back up. My eyes widened, as I realized what would most likely happen next. My eyes darted around as I was looking for anything I could use as a weapon, or a way to escape.

"Aw, what's a matter Blondie? We just want to have a little fun is all, " a different voice teased. As the gang started to come in closer, I decided to take action.

'Hopefully this will work,' I though as I stomped on the foot of the closest gang member.

Bad idea.

"Oh, you've done it now Blondie." Two large hands grabbed hold of my arms and held me against the tree. I felt sharp punches in my stomach, and did what any 13-year-old girl would do.

Scream.

That was the last thing I remember of this event.

I heard voices around me. Angry voices. I was afraid to open in my eyes, in case I was still in the presence of that gang. I heard clanking on what sounded like iron bars. Curiosity took hold of me and I opened my eyes. I was in the last place I ever suspected.

A jail cell.

I stood up and tried to find someone so I could get out of here. I didn't commit any crimes. I was just the victim of gang violence. Why should a victim be in jail when the men who were guilty of the jumping were probably getting drunk at a bar right now?

A cop came up to the front of my cell, and motioned for me to follow him. At least he didn't put me in handcuffed or start reading me my rights. My older brother said that when that happens, you're probably going to go to the cooler for some time.

The cop led me to an office and told me to wait outside the door for a moment. He went inside, most likely to tell whoever was in there that I was outside waiting. He came back out and gruffly motioned for me to go inside.

The room looked just like the principal's office at my school. The only difference between these two rooms would be that there are probably many weapons in this room than at the principal's office.

"Finally awake I see, Miss?" The man behind the large oak desk said warmly. He had the appearance of a grandfather. Gray hair, twinkling eyes and wrinkles on his face that showed he smiled a lot.

"Jeannetta Winston, sir," I answered as politely as I could.

"I am Officer Jones. And can you tell me why my men found you unconscious in Central Park earlier this evening?"

"Well, I was taking a short cut through the park, sir, and I got jumped by a gang," I replied nervously. My brother also said that if you aren't polite or don't give to cops the right answers, they'll throw you in the cooler forever. "But it wasn't my fault. I didn't really do anything to make them jump me. I don't even know them." I blurted out, trying to make my innocence known.

"It's alright Miss Winston. Nobody is accusing you of anything. It's quite obvious that you were the victim of this incident. I just need to record this for statistics sakes, so we might be able to prevent future occurrences. It's pretty late now; I bet your folks are worried sick over you. Why don't you tell me your home phone number so I can call your folks and tell them what happened."

"My phone number is 589-0432." I responded softly.

"Can you repeat that number for me again, Miss Winston?"

"Five eight nine. Zero four. Three Two." I said again. "My mother would be the one to answer." I added as an afterthought.

"Hello. This is Officer Jones with the East Side New York Police Force. Are you the parent or guardian of a Miss Jean Winston? …. Ah. Don't worry Ma'am. Your daughter isn't in any trouble. She just had a run in with some boys at the park. …. The most damage our medic saw was a bruise to her head, she's a lucky one. …. Don't worry about that. I have some boys that are going out on patrol soon and will be glad to escort her home. ….Okay. Goodnight Ma'am." Officer Jones then turned to me. "Alright, now, if you take this and give it to Officer Smith at the front desk, he will escort you home. Okay?"

"Okay. But, where is the front desk?"

"Just go to the left straight down the hallway, and you should get there just fine."

I never thought that I would ever be in the passenger seat of a police car, but here I was sitting in a police car. Yet, I never committed a crime, and it wasn't Career Day or Police Appreciation Day at school. Those were the only times that I was inside a police car.

Dallas, my older brother I mentioned earlier, predicted that I would never be in a cop car besides those few days at school. He believed that I would never become like him. A hoodlum. And that I would never be able to do what he does. Commit crimes for the heck of it. Start gang fights. Dallas was always tough like that. If you told he couldn't do something, he'd do it anyway. He thought laws were made to be broken.

I'm not sure if he's till like that; or if he settled down on earth yet. I haven't seen him in so long. He moved to Oklahoma a few years back, joined a rodeo is what he told me. Probably living the good life right now, out in the country with horses. No worries about gangs. Probably doesn't have to have a group with him so he doesn't get jumped. Well…. maybe not that. He never needed a group with him here. Everyone feared him if they didn't know him, and avoided him if they could if they did.

The car stopped. The police station must be pretty close to my house. It wasn't that big, but it worked for my mother and I. The Officer walked me to the door and rang the doorbell twice. Must be some kind of code to tell people that the police are here. I saw my mother looking out the window behind the curtains before she rushed to the door. The door flew open with such force that I thought Officer Curtis's cap would fly off. My mother embraced me and thanked the Officer for getting me back safely.

"Jean, let me get some ice for your head. You really do have a nasty bruise starting up. And lay down, you look like death on it's feet." My mother chided. She always was a worrywart about injuries. I guess that's why she let Dallas move to Oklahoma. Better off with horses and cowboys than gangs with guns. "And can you tell why in the world you were walking through the park at this time of day? To think what could have happened if there weren't any police officers patrolling during that time. You could have been killed." The color from my mother's face drained away. "You could have been killed."

"Yes, and I could have been raped and kidnapped also." I added, not helping one bit. "But hey, that's why the government has the taxpayers give money to support the police force, so young children like myself don't get murdered for walking out in the open."

"You really could have been killed. Your body mutilated like those corpses on the news. We might not have been even able to find your body." My mother mumbled on.

"But I have common sense. I would have found a way out. I can run-"

"No, you couldn't have Jean! You know you're a sickly child! Why, you can't even meet the standard mile time in school. What makes you think that you would possibly be able to out run gangs who have much more knowledge of the streets than you. They could corner you and bring you back to where ever they had you. They might not even do that. They might just take a gun to your head and kill you right there and then."

"Well that's not going to happen. Kids get jumped everyday, you just don't hear about it unless it was a friend or somebody went missing."

"Nothing that you are saying is helping Jean." My mother yelled at me. She looked furious, like how my teacher was when I took some of Dallas's magazines to school for show and tell. "Just go to bed, before I do something I might regret."

I woke up before my alarm clock the next morning, which was very unusual for me. My head felt sore, and I couldn't really stretch out of the ball I curled myself into. Slowly but surely, I was able to lay in a straight position. I tried to sit up. My body didn't respond. I was able to rock my body a bit, but that was it.

Idea

I started to rock, and after a few times I flipped myself over. I did this a few more times until I came a little too close to the side of my bed. The force from my last roll was able to flip me over once more than I expected. The result was my body failing to meet the ground.

Bad idea.

Very bad idea. Not only did I hurt my body more with that fall. I took everything that was on top of my bed with me in my fall. That included all my school books, multiple sheets of paper and an empty cup. I really clean up my room soon.

The only good thing about this little idea gone wrong is, the fall was able to wake my body up enough so now I can properly function. I quickly got up, changed and threw my hair up into a ponytail. A messy ponytail, but a ponytail none the less.

Sometimes I really wish I could chop off my hair and not have to deal with it. Mom would never allow that though, she says that my hair is the perfect shade of blonde and that if I cut it, my hair will get darker, and then what could I do. She always thought I would be found by a modeling company and make it big. Yeah right. Models are strong, healthy, and feminine. I am anything but that. I'm sickly, weak, and dress more and more like a boy every day. I really can't help it that I happen to find jeans comfortable, and even better, they keep me warmer than just a skirt.

That's partly how I got my nickname. I always wore jeans since I can remember. Sure they were Dallas' old ones, but they fit. When we got enough money to get some new clothes, I chose to stick with Jeans. My name's not JEAN-netta for nothing.

I took a glance at my mirror and notice how ugly of a purple my bruise was. It looked as if it belonged on a space alien rather than my face. I am really going to stand out at school today. Oh great, now everyone is going t know something happened. Usually kids can cover up their bruises, so nobody will pick on them for it. Since this thing, I hardly believe it even can be considered a bruise, is right in plain sight, I don't even have a chance. Make up isn't an option at all. Mom would never let me use it for something as trivial as covering up a bruise. Probably just make it worse and draw even more attention, since I don't like make up to begin with.

My alarm started to go off. Great, I forgot to turn it off when I woke up. Least that woke me up from my internal debate on this thing. I looked around my room, and picked up the stuff I would need for the day. Books, check, Backpack, check, Papers, check, pencils, check.

I went into the kitchen and got a drink of milk. Strange, Mom's not here, and there is no note telling me what chor-

False alarm.

There is a note. Geez, I thought I could have the day to myself. After school, that is. The note said:

Jean,

Breakfast is on the counter. I had to leave for work early today, so I asked Nick to walk with you to and from school today. Study hard and stay safe.

Great, Nick is walking me to school. No doubt she already told him everything about yesterday and more.

Nick is our next door neighbor. He's only a year older than me, but we've known him forever. Nick doesn't really care what he does, as long as he is having fun. He's always been like that, even in school. Sometimes he can be the star of a class, if he's having fun, or the worst student ever. He'd skip classes to have fun. Besides that personality trait, Nick is really average. Average height, average body. The everyday brown hair and brown eyes. Nothing real special.

Another's Notes: Hello my lovely readers. Well, it appears that I got hooked onto the novel, The Outsiders, so I decided to write my own little story. I might post more, I might not. Depends on the sort of feedback I get. Love it, hate it, want to know more then decide. That's all great with me. Just tell me via PM or reviews. It doesn't take much to review, you just press a button, the review screen thingy will pop up, and you can write your review and click the post review button. You don't even have to be a member of the fan fiction community to send me a review. So…. Review? Please.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the novel, The Outsiders, or any of its affiliates. I do, however, own all the original characters and the plotline.

"Jean! You still here?" I heard Nicks voice through the door. I yelled a quick response back. The door opened and steps came from front of the house. Same old Nick, won't even wait a minute for me to come to the door. I grabbed my backpack, and headed to the living room.

"Where are you, Jean?" he asked, looking under the cushions of the sofa. He always said that I could hide there if I really wanted to. I walked up behind him.

"Look behind you." I said. "You know I could never fit in there. Besides, why would I want to hide with the dust bunnies?"

"'Cause dust bunnies can't punch hard enough to leave a bruise." Nick looked up from under the cushion. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the extent of my own bruise. "Wow. That is a nasty bruise. No wonder your ma wants me to walk you."

"I could have walked myself to school. I'm not totally defenseless this time." I replied, heading out the door.

"Not totally defenseless, eh? What, you got a kitchen knife in that backpack of your?"

"No," I showed him my hands, "fists of fury, remember?"

I jokingly gave him a few sharp jabs, most of which he blocked. He grabbed my fists and smirked.

"These don't look like dangerous weapons at all." Nick let go of my hands and continued. "Now maybe if you sharpen your nails and draw flames on your hands, then you might have a couple of nice weapons."

"How will flames make my hands look dangerous?" I inquired. "Probably make it look like I'm trying to win a race or something, rather than defend myself."

"Okay, then maybe not the flames. But if you sharpen your nail, and maybe your teeth no one will ever bother you!"

"Why's that?"

"Simply, they'll think you're a vampire. A wimpy looking one, but a vampire no the less."

"Oh, yeah. Okay, then, fear me, I'm going to suck your blood! Bleh, bleh!" I shook my arms like a bat in flight, until I realized what the second part of Nick's statement was. "Hey, wait a second! I'm not wimpy!"

"Okay, your muscle impaired," Nick flexed his own arms. "These are muscles."

"Those are nothing compared to what Dallas had." I said wistfully.

We fell silent. I shouldn't have brought up Dallas. When we were kids, Nick looked up to him for inspiration. Nick remembered more of our childhood than I did. And most of our childhood revolved around Dallas. And Dallas was the kind of person you could look up to, which was exactly what Nick did. When Dallas started to do things with gangs, he told Nick to 'stop looking at me like I'm some kind of hero!' Nick tried, he went through a few more idols, but it always came back to Dallas. Dallas was really like a big brother to Nick. When Dallas moved away, Nick probably took it harder than my ma and I. We knew it was coming, we knew Dallas would want to get away. Nick had no idea that it was happening until it was too late to even say goodbye. Dallas left during the night, and nobody realized it until the morning.

After a few more minutes of walking, Nick and I reached the front of our school. Although Nick was a year older than me, he got held back last year, so we were in the same grade. If Nick didn't get held back, he would have gone to the high school down the street with the rest of his class. He and two other boys were the only ones that couldn't be promoted, which for our school was a new record. The teachers never want to see the same face for another year, so they'll give the kid a grade just high enough so he can leave and not come back. Unfortunately, most of Nick's teachers were new, so they didn't cut anyone slack.

"Do you think you'll get jumped between here and your first class?" Nick asked. It was obvious that he wanted to ditch school all together. There was a comic book store a few streets back. He probably wanted to check out the action superhero person… thing.

"Your going to ditch and go to that comic book store... aren't you?" I asked. Nick's eye shifted wearily, in case anyone might have heard me.

"Shh… I'm going to call myself in sick," he replied. "I can't afford to have my mom know I'm ditching, or the school for that matter. I do not want to repeat this year again."

"If you just go to class, you won't get in trouble with anyone."

"Yeah, but I have a major test today…." Nick paused in his sentence. It appears he got an idea to pass this test… I bet you anything it will involve me cheating for him. "Hey, wait a second. You have history with Mr. Hanker first period, and I have him last…. You can get the questions for me, and I have him last period. You can get what kind of questions there are and help me get the answers!"

How right I am. I really do know Nick too well.

"What's in it for me?"

And apparently he's rubbing off on me.

"Well, I'm walking you to and from school, that should be enough." I stared at him real hard. Sometimes if I stare long enough he'll give up. He's really vulnerable in the mornings, when he doesn't have the patience to wait out my stares. "Okay fine. How about I get you that chocolate you like so much."

I grinned; he hit just the right note with me. I have a weakness for dark chocolate. Not many people like it, so I can get it real cheap at the grocery store. And what's really great about it is, they only sell the large sizes of the delicious dark brown gold.

"You know me too well Nick." I heard the first bell rang, kids from all over appeared and started to run to the building. "Nice doing business with you!" I yelled, as I ran off to my own class.

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The history test was very simple. It was a multiple-choice test plus a few short answer and true or false questions thrown in there 'just to mix things up,' as Mr. Hanker would say. The basic idea of it was to test our knowledge of the reconstruction of the civil war. Nick would have no trouble with this test at all. He loved the Civil War last year, so he'll probably remember everything that he learned from last year.

The bell once again rang, and students flooded out into the halls. There was talking, yelling, boys chasing each other down the halls due to unkind words said the previous class. Sometimes it got so loud in the hallways that you couldn't even talk to your friends standing next to you. Not that I had friends to talk to. Most kids would try to avoid me because of Dallas' reputation. And now with this ugly thing on my face, people will start saying that I accidentally got hit while jumping some poor kid. They never think that I could be the one getting jumped. It's pretty hard to picture, but it is possible.

I saw Nick walking towards the gymnasium with a few of his new friends. Probably just using them to get homework answers. He really didn't like any of his classes this year, since he already took them last year. English is the only class he really likes, but I'm in that class with him, so that might be why.

Nick walked out of sight, and it was then I decided to follow him. He and his group walked all the way into the gymnasium. I wouldn't be able to follow them, unless I wanted them to know I was following them. I made a left turn and went to the door that opened up into the underneath of the bleachers. I was able to get a good view of Nick. They were talking and looking around occasionally. Their faces were really serious. This definitely isn't about school.

I was tempted to go out and talk to Nick, until I heard another set of doors swung open. Devin and five other boys I didn't recognize walked, no stomped, in. Devin was also held back with Nick and used to be his best friend. Devin lived a few houses down from me. A couple times, I would go over to Nick house to hang out with him, and Devin would either be there already, or would come very soon after. At those times, he seemed to being to become jealous of Nick. I thought he was jealous because Nick knew me and therefore knew Dallas, which automatically put Nick in the 'tough' category. I asked Nick about it a couple times, and Nick told me it was much more than that.

"So, decided to show up?" Devin said in a gruff voice. "Not going to chicken out this time? Not so tough anymore without all your other friends who passed you up."

"They passed you up too," Nick said with a smirk. The air was tight with anticipation of something. "Now, who is this she that your buddy told me about?"

"You know who she is. It's the exact same girl that I told you to stay away from. It's obvious that she doesn't like you. You had your chance to with her, and now your turn is over."

"Are you talking about Sandy Richards?" Sandy Richards was the most gorgeous girl in the school. She took modeling courses at a special academy, on a full scholarship, and it definitely paid off. Every guy wanted her, yet she was always to busy for them. "You can have her dude. I'm not interested in that stick of a girl."

"No, not Sandy. She's a little two timing slut face bitch." Devin thought he was dating her a few months back, but it turned out she was only using him so the high school boys wouldn't harass her. "I'm talking about the girl who's in this room right now."

I felt my eyes widen, there weren't any girls out there… so unless another girl is hiding in here…

"Devin, I always knew that there was something wrong with your boy Chris over there. I'm guessing that Chris is short for Christine." Nick and his gang laughed. They said some crude things, and wolf whistled at Chris. If glares could kill, Nick would be disemboweled, cut into tiny pieces and used as shark bait by the glare Chris was giving him at that moment.

"He's talking about that Winston girl, you moron!" Chris shouted, getting fed up with the joke on his gender.

I really didn't register what name he said; I was trying to stifle my laughter on the earlier joke. I saw Nick go serious, deadly serious. The only time I ever saw him this serious was when I threatened to run away after an argument I had with my mom. Nick only gets this serious when something bad might happen to me. That's when I realized-

Shit.

My face yet again met the ground for the second time in 24 hours.

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I woke up hearing grunts and fists meeting bodies. I guess I had been dragged out from behind the bleachers to make whatever threat Devin used even more persuasive. Devin and Nick were fighting in the center of the rumble, with the others trying to wrestle their victim to the ground then punch and kick them. This was not a jumping.

This was a real rumble.

And no matter what, there are not going to be any winners. They're all going to come out of this with what? Bruises, bumps, and maybe a broken rib from a properly placed kick.

That was when I saw it: a flash of steel coming from the back pocket of Devin's pants. Devin's going to try and cut Nick to ribbons. Why? Because they weren't friends. Then I remember the conversation I over heard before I got knocked out.

They're fighting for me.

Nick still hasn't seen Devin reaching for his switchblade. Nick won't know until it's too late. I had to do something, but what can I do? I couldn't even defend myself the other night. I could get help from the teachers. No, it would still be too late, this gym is the old one, and is separated from the main building. I couldn't get help from anyone. I was on my own.

I took action. I sprinted toward Nick and Devin. It was perfect, Devin wouldn't even see me, and I can easily tackle him into the ground before he has the chance to use that blade on Nick.

The closer I got to Devin, the faster his arm seemed to move. As I lunged for his unaware body, I wrapped my arm around his neck to try to stop him from moving out from under me as we fell. His knife automatically came up as he felt the restraint of my arm around his neck. Before Devin and I hit the ground, he was able to get out from my body and save himself the fall.

The result was a three-inch gash from the outside of my elbow to the middle of my forearm. At first my arm went numb. I saw blood spray onto the ground from my newly inflicted wound. I started breathing heavily, and tears started to fall from my eyes. My whole form shook from the amount of pain in my arms. This was worst than the punch I got last night.

Just don't scream, don't yell. I kept telling myself that.

It got really quiet. I saw shadows coming all around me. 'Shit, I'm going to get jumped again,' I thought. One of the shadows knelt down to my level. I saw Nick's face and his mouth was moving, I could register anything that he was saying. I wanted to tell him how much this hurt, but I knew that if I opened my mouth only a blood curling shriek would emerge.

The pain from my arm started to die down. And the less pain I felt, the darker everything became. Before I drifted into sweet unconsciousness, I was able to tell Nick:

"It's on the civil war construction, Nick."

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A/N: Okay, wow. I don't even know how this rumble even worked itself into this chapter. And Devin just decided to pop in here also. I kind of scared myself now that I'm re-reading this chapter. Its just… wow. I never wrote fight scenes or anything like this before so, if it sucks, please tell me. And please also explain to me why it sucks. If not, expect a reply back from me asking why. And please don't forget to press that little purple/blue (debatable topic) button and review. It's the reviews and people who've been adding this to their favorites list and alert list that have made me want to update faster.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders, or any of its affiliates; nor am I an affiliate of The Outsiders. I do own the plot and the original character in this fan-fiction.

The ground was wet and hard under my prone form. I opened my eyes wearily. The first thing I saw was my hand. It was pale and covered in the blood from my gash. I tried to move it, but couldn't. I tried once more and my fingers just started to shake.

I ignored my hand, for now, and looked to see where I was and who was making all-that racket. Only Nick, Devin and I were left in the gymnasium. The others probably left once they saw my blood hit the wood floor. They knew if they were caught in here, they can and will easily get expelled.

"If you didn't knock her out, this would have never even happened!" Nick shouted. His eyes were furious. He would go into a rage if nobody could stop him. "How did you even know she was here? And how could you even think of hurting her if you trying to get her to go out with you!? That's just crazy!"

"I didn't mean to cut her! I didn't even mean for her to get knocked out!"

"You know how frail she-"

"I knew! I know damn well how sickly she is!" Devin yelled. "The retard I sent to get her is the one who didn't know!"

"Well, it's your fault for not telling him to be gentle!"

The verbal argument continued on, each one blaming the other for my current state. Not realizing it wasn't anyone's fault but my own. I was the one to make the choice to put myself in danger for a friend. I didn't want to see Nick hurt for my sake. I could fight for myself. I guess I was just trying to prove that to him. I'm tough, too. I don't need help fighting my own problems.

I felt vibrations through the ground. 'Oh great, that means a class is coming,' I thought. 'Nick and Devin can get caught. And if the teacher found out that they were fighting, they can get expelled.'

I tried to call to them, but they were too involved with their own argument. I got a better idea. I lifted my lower leg, and then let it fall into the floor. A nice loud sound resulted. The two warring boys dropped their disagreement and came right over to me. Perfect.

"Jean!" they shouted. The east side doors opened and a teacher with his class came into the room. I closed my eyes before the teacher could see that I was awake

"Hey!" what sounded like my teacher Mr. Power shouted. "What are you two boys doing here?"

"Well, you see sir." Nick began. "My buddy and I here were, erm, skipping class."

"Found me." I whispered to them, barely moving my lips to keep the idea that I was still knocked out

"And we found Jean here," Devin continued. "I tried to pick her up, but Nick told me not to, that I would probably hurt her worse."

By this time the kids were whispering and guessing what happened to me. I felt a hand touch my neck, under the corner of my jaw, then the hand pick up my injured arm. A finger got really close to the opening in my skin. I flinched. I gingerly started to open my eyes. I looked around from where I was to better give off the idea that I was coming to.

"Jeannetta, do you know what day it is?" Mr. Power asked me.

"It's Friday? Right?" I said.

"Yeah, do you think you can stand?"

"I can try." I sat up. It felt like all the blood was draining from my head. I got dizzy and the room started spinning. 'Okay, wasn't expecting that,' I thought. "I think this is as far up that my body will allow."

"Okay. Just relax." Mr. Power turned around and sent one of his fastest students to get the nurse. "Can you tell me what happened? Who did this to you?"

"I… I don't really remember," I said weakly. "I'm not even sure how I got here. I just remember getting punched in the head from behind, and that's it really."

"Okay, take it easy Jeannetta." Mr. Power turned to Nick and Devin. "And how did you two get in here without any of the teachers catching you?"

"We came in here a few minutes before the bell for class rang," Nick lied. Well… it probably was true to some extent. Nick was always good at telling half-truths. "We were hanging out behind the bleacher, you know, climbing up the bars and stuff."

"It wasn't until about a minute before you came in here that we came out from behind the bleachers," Devin continued. So far the story seemed really believable. "Nick said that he smelled something funny. So we came out and looked and found Jean lying in a pool of her own blood."

"And you didn't think to come outside and yell for help?" Mr. Power was angry. He always believed that kids are smart when it comes to emergencies. When, in reality, we don't really think at all. We do what first comes to our minds. And that usually is: try and wake the person up, get them fixed and bit and then go after whoever jumped them. Common sense seems to disappear when one needs it most, and then comes back when it's too late.

"Our first thought was to make sure that she was alive." Devin retorted. "What good is it to yell for help if the person you want to help is dead?"

"Then why didn't you just check her pulse, rather than try to wake her up?"

"We can't tell how to check a person's pulse! That for doctor's with metal thingies!" Nick shouted. I giggled slightly. I can't believe he actually said that. Thingies is such a 5-year-old world. It just goes to show his mental potential.

The doors once again opened and the nurse entered. She immediately saw the blood surrounding my arm. She took out a bottle of clear liquid and warned that it might sting a bit as she cleaned the wound. I might just be being a big baby, but that stung way much more than she let on. I grimaced as I felt a bandage being wrapped around my arm. I was hoping that she would rinse that stinging stuff out of my arm.

"Do you think you can walk if we lift you off the ground?" she asked.

"Prob'ly," I mumbled

"Okay, well," the nurse turned to Nick and Devin, "since you two were so adamant at skipping, you can help Jeannetta to my office. Then go have a nice chat with the dean of discipline for skipping class."

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Excuse my language, but what a complete load of bullshit.

I'm on a train going to Tulsa, Oklahoma. I'm going to stay there with Dallas for a few years, or until Mom thinks New York is safe enough for me. All because I got jumped twice. The second jumping wasn't even a real jumping. I willingly went into the rumble so Nick wouldn't get badly hurt. If I didn't jump, he would have gotten cut to ribbons, I just got a slice. I didn't even need stitches from what the nurse said, just keep it clean and wrapped, and it will be better in a few weeks. The cut didn't even hit any tendons or nerves, so I would get full mobility once the wound closed.

I really wished this trip would hurry up. We're only five miles away from Tulsa, but it felt like hundred. We should be getting there in about ten minutes, give or take. I'm really starting to get nervous about seeing Dallas again. I wonder if he changed since I last saw him. Or if he likes a good fight still, not that I would be able to give him one. I bet he made his own gang, and they have battles or stupid things and then go play poker together. Okay, probably not play poker together, but he's definitely having fun out here. He would have made sure of it.

An announcement came on, to start gathering up your luggage because we have safely arrived in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I looked out the window and saw buildings and streets, the normal kinds of things you would see in a town like Tulsa. The east side of town appeared to be dingier than the cleaner west side. I got the idea that the east side is where Dallas is and where I will be living.

I disembarked from the train and began looking for Dallas. The easiest way I thought of to find him would to stand on something and look for his familiar mop or hair. So far, there were no blondes at all. The crowd pasted and I was left all alone. I sat down on the benches to the side of the station, and waited.

And waited, and waited.

Where is the world can that idiot brother of mine be? Hopefully not at a bar drunk or lying somewhere from a fight. Maybe he was just caught in traffic, or forgot what time the train was supposedly to coming. That left the question on how could he forgot that I was coming. I'm his kid sister! His only sister for goodness sakes!

I was brought out of my thoughts by a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around excepting to see the ice blue eyes of Dallas staring down at me. Instead I was met with large brown eyes of a stranger.

"You Jean?" he asked.

"Yeah, " I replied. "And you are?"

"Johnny, one of Dally's friends. C'mon, I'm suppost to take you to meet him." Johnny turned around and started walking. Dallas must have gotten a new name. I might have a hard time adjusting to that. Everyone always called him Dallas, and rarely Dal'. Never Dally… sounds like something you would name a puppy.

"We gonna walk there?" My bags were heavy and my arm was still hurting from the cut. I really hoped I would get a ride or something.

"Nah, Two-Bit will drive us. He's waiting just around the corner." Johnny turned back to make sure I wasn't falling behind. "You need help with your stuff?"

I nodded. He picked up the last bag that I was unsuccessfully reaching for just a moment sooner. He led me to a side street where an old rusty truck was waiting.

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A/N: Yeah, I know the chapter was a bit short, but this was probably the hardest chapter so far, since I had the character actually move. And try to make everything as logic as possibly so Jean does seem like a Mary-sue… She doesn't seem like a Mary sue, does she? …Also I kind of forgot what most the characters looked like…. Well at least two of them.

Oh, and for those people who have this story on their favs and alert lists, can you please review? It is nice when I first get the messages saying people are faving and alerting my story, but I would like to know what you think about it. Why you like it? I'm not excepting everyone to start writing these big long reviews, but review longer than ten words would be nice.

Also, Jean is about to meet the whole gang, and I want to know, since the only reason I'm writing this is for the readers enjoyment, what relationship you would like to see Jean have. The choices are staying single, dating Pony, or dating another O.C. (please not the last one, I'm lazy and don't want to make up another person…) Oh and another possibility is the Jean surprise.

That is all. Please press the purple/blue button and review! Hopefully the next chapter will be out by Sunday or Monday, and will be longer.


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